


The Lakeland

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Fics: Other Fandoms [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, They Deserve a Happy Ending Dammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22451914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Ficlet written to the prompt, Wolfstar and medieval AU
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Prompt Fics: Other Fandoms [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/764091
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37
Collections: Peeps Prompting Peeps Server Collection





	The Lakeland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nickelkeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep/gifts).



> Nickel...I have no idea what this but it totally got away from me...how was this nonsense ever going to be three sentences?? *sob*

The roar of an apparently maddened beast echoes through the narrow roads of the city; Remus heaves a sigh, rubbing at his temples.

“Run for your life!” is what he thinks a terrified woman screams as she pushes past him.

A furious snarl almost seems to pursue her, a flash of fur all that Remus can make out before the creature crashes out of sight; wood splinters, filthy produce bouncing in and out of view.

Sirius is  _ really  _ hamming it up this time.

Putting a hand on his sword, Remus heaves another sigh.

Time to put on a show.

“Begone, spawn of vileness!” he declaims as he strides into the open, drawing his sword and squaring off against his perceived foe.

The enormous black dog wheels on him, eyes glittering like red fire, steam pouring from its nostrils like smoke. It paws at the ground, saliva and malevolence dripping from his mouth.

If Remus didn’t know better, he’d be scared.

Remus does know better.

He knows exactly when to lift his sword, exactly when to dodge, exactly when to parry. He knows precisely how to twist so that the bite to his arm doesn’t actually hurt, knows how to sprawl and cry out on the ground to convince the locals he’s in dire straits. They’ve done this so many times, in so many places, that the script is familiar; the hardest part is not making it appear rehearsed.

What a bother.

“Can’t we find a better way to make a living?” he asks, nor for the first time, hours later when Sirius is grinning and counting the coins that the townsfolk had rained on Remus after his “victory.” One of the spots he pretended to injure during the melee actually hurts, and Remus lies on the bed, rubbing at his wrist and scowling.

“You were the one who wanted to stop fighting  _ actual  _ monsters.” Sirius gives a gold piece a kiss before plopping it, the last of their takings, into his purse.

“You were the one who almost died,” counters Remus sourly. He has to laugh it off, has to make it into a jab; if he actually thinks about the moment when the banshee tore into Sirius’ chest, blood spurting red and hot in the frigid marsh, he’s stomach turns.

Judging by the concerned expression Sirius shoots his way, Remus is fooling exactly no one.

“Darling,” says Sirius. A shiver trails down Remus’ spine. “Light of my life…” Sirius rises. Remus tries to keep his veneer of aloofness intact, because when Sirius starts spewing endearments he’s never up to any good, but it’s impossible as Sirius crosses their inn room, climbs onto the bed, and straddles his hips. “I’m sorry I scared you.” Wait...Sirius is being...sincere? “I swear, I will do whatever brings you most joy.” Oh, this is so much worse than when Sirius is needling him. “If that’s hunting the foul monsters that haunt the night…” Sirius is beautiful like this, smiling down at him, long hair curling about his shoulders. “...if that’s raking in coin by duping the bumpkins…” Remus’ heart thumps; he can’t help but reach out, cup those powerful hips, stare into those gorgeous dark eyes. “...if that’s retiring to a cottage in the lakeland…” Sirius leans down and brushes a light kiss over Remus’ lips. “...as long as we’re together, dearest Remus, I’ll be satisfied.”

Remus skims a hand up Sirius’ side, cups his cheek, draws him in for another kiss. “A cottage?” he murmurs.

Sirius nods solemnly, bumping their mouths together.

“In the lakeland?”

Another solemn nod, another soft kiss.

“You’ve never mentioned that before…”

“...we’re flush...retirement is sounding increasingly appealing…”

“...and if perhaps we hear of some evil while we’re there…”

“You know I always adore vanquishing evil at your side.”

Remus shifts up from the bed as Sirius shifts down, and he’s spared thinking of an appropriate response as their bodies shift together, lips against lips, hips against hips, a shared dance as practiced as their mock fight in the town square. Pleasure sparks bright colors in Remus’ swimming vision, painting Sirius in vivid shades of tan and black and beauty. 

Remus has always known Sirius wanted to travel at his side. But the novelty that Sirius might also wish to  _ settle _ at his side?

Euphoric.

“When can we leave?” he asks wistfully.

“As soon as you come off for me, precious...” Sirius voice is husky in his ear, the hard line of his body a wonderful, solid weight pressed to Remus’ chest. “...so soon…”

Hands - his own, Sirius’ - fumble between them, rubbing at sensitive flesh. Bliss builds in Remus, pressure in his belly, heat in his hard cock. There are no more words, only pursuit of climax - his hips pressing up from the bed, Sirius undulating against him - and when the pressure breaks, it feels like he’s fallen from a great height, gasping and thrusting, mouthing soft moans into Sirius’ neck.

They get to have this, together, for the rest of their lives.

Remus can think of nothing he wants more.

“Are you well, my love?” he whispers as the glow slowly ebbs, leaving him yet elated at the prospect of the times to come.

“Glorious,” Sirius sighs, replete and at ease.

“Excellent.” Remus pushes him off, ignoring his startled protest, and rolls to his feet beside the bed. “I’m ready to leave when you are…”

They pack to the lovely music of Sirius’ laughter.

When the day started, he had no idea how much he had to look forward to.

The future has never looked brighter.


End file.
